Bound and Determined
by AJ Morrelli
Summary: Nathaniel Howe finds himself at the mercy of a rather wicked mage.


((Author's notes: First, disclaimer. I do not own Dragon Age, Awakenings, Nate or Anders, and I'm writing this purely for the enjoyment of it. Second, see the remarks below for a few spoilerific story notes as well as the alternate title to this little piece. This has no connection to any other stories of mine, springing soley from my own wicked imagination. ))

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Nathaniel's back arched away from the wooden table he'd been secured to, a hiss escaping his clenched teeth. As he eased back down, he could feel his chest rising and falling in heavy pants, the smell of the expended lightning spell making it almost hard to breathe.

"When I get loose, I'm going to kill you, you realize." He shook his head to get his hair away from his eyes, glaring at his tormentor as he walked around the table once again.

"That's not exactly something I'm worried about right now." The mage trailed a fingertip along his bare leg until the leathers he wore prevented more skin-to-skin contact. "Especially since my magic's proven more than capable of handling you." Even through the breastplate he wore, he could feel fingertips moving up his side, seeking the uncovered flesh of his arms.

"Blood magic," he spit. "No wonder the templar want you so badly."

A laugh. "You know, they say it only affects those with a weak mind." Slim fingers combed through his hair, short nails scratching along his scalp. "Or maybe you just wanted to give up." The fingers gripped for a moment, pulling, before releasing him as the mage continued pacing around.

"If I'd taken my shot-"

"I wouldn't be breathing now. And yet, you let sentimentality get in the way. Tch tch tch." The mage stopped at the foot of the table, now letting both hands skim up and down the rogue's thighs, sliding under the armored skirt.

Nathaniel wriggled his hips, about the only protest he could give, save more verbal ones. His knees were hooked over the edge of the table, shins bound to the legs. His arms were stretched over his head, bound together at the wrists, and secured, he guessed, by several ropes that ran from the other legs. There were no locks here he could pick and he'd been searched thoroughly for all of his weapons, including the little blades he kept for situations like this.

No, not like this. This was something else entirely. He hadn't expected a maleficar to take prisoners, not with all the stories he'd heard. Then again, this wasn't some random mark they'd been hunting.

"Anders, stop!"

Warm hands slid along the inside of his thighs, reaching uncomfortably close to somewhere intimate. The mage leaned back, letting his nails drag along the skin there, seeming to like the grimace that caused Nathaniel to wear.

"Stop? Nate, my sweet, we haven't even begun."

Moving around to the side of the table again, he studied the fastens that held on the lower half of the rogue's leathers, picking at them experimentally until he managed to loosen the buckles. As he tried to remove them, however, Nathaniel smirked. The only way to slide them off would be to untie his legs.

Or that would have been the only way if the mage hadn't produced one of his own knives to cut through some of the straps that held the armor together. Once one side was sliced through, he easily pulled it away as if it had merely been wrapped around his hips.

The point of the blade followed the curve of first one hip and then the other as he nicked the strings that secured his undergarment as well, though that he left be, instead turning his attention to the top half of the leather.

"This is going to be simply too much work." Anders shook his head. "Thankfully, I have a solution."

"Leave it be?" Nathaniel quipped.

Anders chuckled, stepping close and holding a hand over his chest. His intent became clear as the warm air between the two of them became more visible, moisture starting to condense on the breastplate, spreading out to cover the leather in a thin layer of frost.

Nathaniel could feel the cold seeping through his armor as it was pressed against his skin. He tried to slow his breathing, given that the armor itself was starting to constrict from the now fine layer of ice that was wrapping around it. Unbidden, his teeth began to chatter as the cold spread to his arms and stomach. Once Anders seemed satisfied with how thick the ice was, he carefully spun the dagger around in his grasp and slammed the hilt against it just above Nate's stomach. The brittle leather crackled and he could feel the individual pieces, which the mage began stripping away.

"So much easier than fighting with all those straps, wouldn't you agree?" He let out a soft sound as he pulled at one of the final pieces and as he dropped it, Nathaniel could see the red tinge that had come from the nick in his palm. Giving Nate a sideways glance, he brought his hand up to his lips, trailing his tongue along the wound before pressing his lips against it.

Swallowing against the thick feeling that was beginning to settle in his throat, Nathaniel managed to get the tremors from the cold under control. "So now what? More torture?"

"You think that was torture?" Blonde brows arched and an amused chuckle escaped Anders' lips. "Oh no, Nate. I haven't begun that yet."

The rogue hissed as cold fingertips brushed down his side, finally seizing the last of the cloth protecting his modesty and pulling it away. He bit back a groan as he felt one digit run the length of...oh, Maker.

"My." He could hear the chuckle in Anders' voice. "I think I'm impressed. Even through all that cold. And don't try to deny it, Nathaniel. You _are_ wanting."

He shook his head. "No. Don't do this, Anders. Please."

"Mmm, don't do what? This?" Fingers wrapped around him and pulled upward, causing him to swallow the groan that came from the back of his throat. "Yes, this, I think."

His head tipped back, chest heaving, jaw clenched to keep all but the faintest of whimpers from escaping as smooth fingers and a steadily warming palm began to stroke up and down in a slow rhythm. He could feel his hips starting to wriggle again, wanting to free himself from the mage's hold but all it seemed he was doing was thrusting himself into his hand.

"You know, Nate, I _would_ be willing to stop." Anders' words didn't match the pace of his hand. "I just need one little thing from you first."

Nathaniel huffed out something of a laugh. It couldn't be _that_ simple. "And what price is my freedom?"

He found himself almost groaning as the mage stopped. Anders came to the head of the table and leaned down, brushing some of his hair away so he could dust his lips against the rogue's ear.

"I'll give you your release if you _beg_ for it."

Something flared inside of him at those words. No. Never. He was a Howe. A Howe didn't _beg_. Not only a Howe, he was a _Grey Warden_. There was nothing Anders could do that would make him beg. _Nothing_.

"Maker take you," he hissed. "And your deals."

He felt a kiss against the shell of his ear. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Anders drew back, humming softly to himself as he let his finger draw a pattern around Nathaniel's nipple, the design moving down to the softer skin of his stomach and side, tracing along the line of his hip and then along the underside of his shaft before he felt the pad of his thumb brushing back and forth against his head.

"Shall we put that endurance they're always lauding upon us to the test, Nate, hmm?" Anders was at the foot of the table now, his other hand sliding up his thigh, supporting him as he leaned forward and flicked a tongue against the other man's erection. Nathaniel felt his hips twitch again. "Mmm, you're sensitive."

His eyes had been closed, his breathing deep as he did his best to drown out the little distractions that Anders was trying to create with his body. As a sudden warmth enveloped him, his eyes snapped open and he hurriedly sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it to keep his surprised groans from spilling forth.

As Anders kept swallowing him, he could feel the pull of the mage's hand countering each firm suck. His arms ached as he pulled at the ropes binding his hands. It wasn't just the other's mouth that was torture, it was not being able to touch him, guide him to the pace that _he_ wanted, to brush his hair back and watch him moving. Faint groans accompanied his heavy breaths and he was consciously bucking his hips slowly into the mage's mouth.

A long suck accompanied Anders pulling away from him again, though this time he bit back any disappointed sounds. Fingers brushed between his legs again, starting to massage his sac, sliding back to brush against the sensitive skin beneath it. Nate gasped.

"Stop trying to take control of this situation," Anders told him as he moved his hand, the motion both massage and stroke. "Or I am going to have to remind you that you," he squeezed a little, eliciting a groan, "are _not_ in charge here."

Nathaniel felt it wisest to just bite his tongue and let the mage move on to whatever he had in mind next.

Anders left him after that, rooting around for something outside of his view. He came back toying with a small bottle that Nathaniel eyed suspiciously.

"What is that?"

"Oil. From the Dalish." He rolled the bottle between his palms. "They use it to keep their leathers soft. Oh, don't worry." He must have seen the look on the other's face. "It's perfectly safe. Not like the grease you use."

"And just why do you have that?"

Anders undid the stopper and let some of it drizzle over his fingers. "Because I don't think you'd like it if I didn't." Setting the bottle aside, he brought his hand between Nate's legs again, making him jump as he felt a brush along his backside.

"What are you doing?"

The mage ignored the question, frowning as he seemed to be absently groping and sliding his fingers at the crease there. Shaking his head, he grinned at his captive once more, raising a hand that pulsed with arcane energy.

"Anders, sto-Ah!" Nathaniel's words dissolved into a growl as his muscles slacked, the same puppet spell that trapped him before. All he could do was glare as Anders knelt down, cutting through the bonds at his legs. They were then lifted up, feet planted on the table.

"Much better."

He stood there for a moment, considering something, and then began stripping off his robes. Balling them up, he slid them under Nathaniel's hips, propping them at an angle. Unable to ask, let alone protest, Nate could only watch as Anders slicked his fingers with the oil again. This time, there was no mistaking what he had in mind as he could feel him tracing circles around his entrance.

This should have been humiliating, looking across his own _naked_ body at the mage who seemed to be waiting for...something. Anders' eyes trailed in the opposite direction, cocking his head to the side as their gazes met. Nate could feel himself flush, but he wasn't embarrassed. Maker help him, he was _aroused._

Something pressed inside of him and he threw his head back with a strangled noise. From Anders' laughter, it had to be his finger, having finally breached Nathaniel's opening.

"Not so bad with the oil, is it?" Back and forth he moved it, a slow pace that pushed him in a little further with each thrust. His other hand rubbed up and down Nate's thigh. "Just relax," he purred. "Relax and breathe."

Nathaniel shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment. All he could manage were ragged pants, when he wasn't groaning at the sensation.

"Always so quiet," Anders mused. "I wonder if I can change that."

Nate hissed as he felt a second finger joining the first. For a time, they kept the same rhythm and then they began to scissor inside of him, making him grit his teeth as he was stretched. On top of that, Anders also seemed to be trying to press his fingers further in.

"Damn it, Mage, what are you-" The rest of his curse devolved into a squawk, his body arching so powerfully from the jolt of pleasure that washed through him that he felt the ropes biting into his wrists as he jerked against them. He could see Anders laughing but it was impossible for him to hear anything over the rapid breathing that was shaking his chest. Eyes wide with surprise, he fought to catch his breath, barely having relaxed before he felt his insides stroked again.

"Ah! Maker!" His hands clenched into fists, still pulling at the ropes. His hips bucked into Anders' touch, held down by his free hand. The feeling tightened his groin and he could feel his whole body trembling. "Anders, stop!"

Another push, another stroke. He barely managed to tip his head up, seeing the mage leaning over the table, one hand still inside of him, the other supporting his body as he leaned down, flicking a tongue against the underside of Nate's twitching erection. "That, sweet Nathaniel, sounded more like an order."

His head fell back against the table as he felt heat around the tip of his shaft again. Each suckle, each swirl of that warm, wet tongue, each push, they all had him keening from the back of his throat. If he tried to move his hips, he found Anders shifting to pin them with his body, a reminder that it was the mage in control here, not him. Tension started to coil below his stomach, robbing his gasps of sound as all he could do was suck in breaths to keep from passing out from the pleasure of it. Any moment and he was going to shatter.

"No!"

His cry wasn't from an unbidden release, but from the sudden stop of all of the sensations that had been pushing him over the edge. Anders had suddenly pulled away from him, leaving his body completely empty and exposed. He knew he was whimpering, eyes pleading with the mage to _not stop_.

"Anders," he groaned.

The mage laughed, currently sliding his own undergarment down his legs. "Mmm, so wanting." He carefully climbed onto the table to kneel between Nathaniel's own legs. He held the oil bottle again, this time the liquid glistened off both his hand and along his own member. "I told you, Nate. If you want your release, you're going to have to beg me for it."

His hands slid up the rogue's thighs to the backs of his knees, raising and pushing his legs back as he shifted closer. The position wasn't uncomfortable, but it left him completely exposed. He could feel the press of Anders' tip against his entrance and swallowed, shaking his head.

"Your stubbornness is going to be what breaks you, my friend."

Nate howled, feeling the mage press his way inside of him. The oil helped, as did what he'd been doing earlier, but it still _hurt_. And Anders wasn't stopping, easing himself inside until their bodies were pressed together. Mercifully, it was that point he paused, both of them panting hard from the action. Not long enough, though, as he felt him starting to withdraw only to press back inside.

His arms were starting to ache from straining against the bindings, wanting so badly to be able to do _something_ with his hands other than clenching and unclenching them. He could feel the slight rock of his body as Anders slid himself in and out, hands still gripped at his knees, groaning as he moved. The mage leaned forward a little more, changing their angle, pressing deeper, pressing...

Nathaniel _sobbed_ as Anders reached that spot inside of him again, the one that sent lightning all through his body. He felt himself twitch, his muscles clenching around the other man. Anders let out a noise of his own, the intensity causing him to buck his hips, hitting that damn spot _again_.

"Anders! Maker, _please_!" The words poured from his lips, his eyes snapping open as soon as he realized what he'd said. They then pinched shut as he groaned. He'd done it. He swore that he wouldn't and the moment he'd been overtaken by pleasure, he'd lost.

He whimpered as Anders let his legs ease back to the table, leaning forward so that his hands were braced over Nathaniel's shoulders. He'd also stopped moving but that didn't mean the ache was going away. Kisses peppered at his lips, broken up by little triumphant smiles.

"I got you to break."

Nathaniel turned his head only to have the kisses turn into nibbles at his ear and jaw. "Let me go, then. You promised."

Anders laughed. "No, I promised you'd get your release if you begged me. I never said aaaanything about letting you go." He punctuated the statement with a slow thrust of his hips, which, of course, made Nathaniel groan.

"You bastard."

"Never make a deal with a demon when they already have you at their mercy." Anders nipped his ear. "What do you want, Nate?" Anders' breath tickled warm against his skin.

"Let me go." He swallowed, his throat pinching, dry from his heavy breathing.

"Wrong answer." Anders began moving again, the rogue's back arching in response, feeling himself being filled once more.

He whimpered. "Anders, stop. Please. I can't- I want-"

The other man pressed forward again, pulling yet another groan from the noble, and sent a bolt of ice at the rope that was keeping Nathaniel's arms over his head. A sharp tug shattered the binding and he quickly brought his hands up, groaning as he slid his arms around Anders' neck, pulling the mage down to his lips. The two of them practically shared a moan as their tongues began dueling with one another.

"Maker's _breath_, Mage, I thought you really were going to kill me." Nathaniel let Anders pull back, but only enough to look at him.

Anders chuckled, pressing their foreheads together. "As I seem to recall, this was _your _idea." He picked his head up, watching the expressions Nate knew were playing over his face as the blonde began to move his hips once more.

"I never dreamed you could be so wicked." He pulled him down into another kiss, his legs wrapping around Anders' thighs, squeezing him as encouragement to move deeper. His head tipped back and another groan rolled from his throat.

He felt a nuzzle there as Anders smiled. "And I never dreamed you'd let me tie you up. I wanted to make sure your trust was well rewarded."

"Mmm, you know, it hasn't been yet." Another squeeze and then he let his lips brush against his partner's ear. "Make me beg, lover. I want to be at your mercy."

Anders grin was just as wicked as it had been initially. "That, my sweet Nathaniel," he purred, "sounds like an order I will happily follow."

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((My alternate, not-serious, spoilerific title is "Table-top role-playing games." Yes, I'm a geek, why do you ask? And no, I didn't actually make sweet Anders into a blood mage. They _are_ just playing, after all. *winks*))


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